Into the Looking Glass
by PenStar
Summary: Camilla is the grandaughter of Alice, and when her mother dies she goes to England to live with Alice. After dicovering secert letters to Alice that hint a kidnapping, she decides to solve the mystery and stumbles upon a strange mirror... Please review!
1. Chapter 1

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer: My story is in nearly every way different than Louis Caroll's classic. If characters are copied, it is only to help better each reader's enjoyment.**

Chapter One

The rain streaking across the car window did nothing to improve my mood. I was tired, and after traveling for three days with nothing decent to eat, my already strained nerves were on overdrive. I drifted into unconsciousness, and memories of before crowded my thoughts, a blur of lines and color that stifled any hope of clear judgment.

I was back in the hospital. I was leaning close to my mom, holding her hand for the last time.

"The cancer has spread," I told her, "The doctors can't fix it this time."

I could see her wince, and squeeze her eyes shut. She looked so fragile there, and worn. Nothing like her old self, happy and full of life. She was the one who taught me to be who I was, showed me life through an artist's eyes. I wanted to be just like her.

"Camilla," she said softly, lightly squeezing my hand, "I want you to know, that you are the most important person in my life. And when I'm gone, I want you to remember who you are, and where you've come from."

She held her hand out to me, and then opened it. A locket lay quietly there in her outstretched palm. I took it and examined it with wonder. I was small, and oval in shape, with engravings of odd animals dressed in old fashioned clothing. There was a large queen of hearts on the front, her beautiful face looking up with inquisitive eyes. When I opened the locket, I found pictures of two men inside, both startlingly handsome, one with blonde hair and laughing eyes, the other dark with a brooding scowl. They were both dressed in old fashioned clothes.

"Who are they?" I asked, looking back at my mother. When she didn't answer, I tried to wake her. But she was already gone.

Then another flashback, this time in the attic of our little house in Seattle. My mom and I were going through boxes for a yard sale. I was looking for the container with all of my old toys in it, so that I could save the few special ones that I had had forever. As I looked, I found a wooden box, carved with swirls and flowers. It wasn't very big, about the size of a loaf of bread. I tried to open it, but it was completely sealed.

"What are you doing?" my mom shouted, grabbing the box. "You can't have this, it's private!" And with that, she stormed out of the room, with the box under her arm. I never saw it again.

A sudden bump in the car jostled me awake. I groaned. "Are we nearly there?" I asked the driver, a tall thin man who had picked me up at the airport. He had introduced himself as Collin.

"Yes, we have only forty minutes to go." Perfect. I looked down at my mother's box, now sitting on my lap. Turning it upside down, I noticed two oval-shaped depressions in the bottom, surrounded by a circle. I fingered the locket around my neck.

Then, I had it all figured out. I took the locket off of my neck and opened it. Placing it in the two holes, I began turning. The entire bottom of the box came off, and a jumble of letters fell into my hands.

Oddly enough, they were all from two men named Gram Calverly, and Gerard Christophe. That I knew because their names were in scripted on the inside lid of the box. Could these men be the ones in the photos? Checking the dates written on all of the letters, I started with reading the oldest.

_Dearest Alice, _

_It seems like weeks since I have seen you, though you only left yesterday. The rooms in this house are haunted with your smile, and it makes me ache to know how long you will be gone. I wish I could send myself to you along with this letter, but I don't know where you've gone. Why won't you tell me? And why must I keep these letters a secret, only reaching you through the looking-glass?_

_Oh, Alice, if only you were here, if only I could see your face once more._

_G.C._

I looked over the letter, at the beautiful letters and words. At the bottom of the letter was a drawing of a rose, perfect and complete, save but one petal, which I noticed was on the back of the envelope. Whoever G.C. was, they were an amazing artist. Wait, who _was_ G.C.? Both men had the same initials, and there wasn't a name on the front of the letter, other than an embellished _Alice_.

I found the second letter and opened it.

Alice,

If you ever want to see your love again, you will come with me. My men are watching his and your every move. If you wish to leave through the looking-glass, you must do everything I say. Meet me at the train station, 6:00. Don't be late.

Forgive me,

G.C.

The script from this letter was hurried, and uneven. I was surprised at how much more contrasting the words were from the first letter.

"What's that, Miss?" I heard Collin ask.

"Er, I'm not sure," I said, stuffing the letters back into the box and locking it. I would read more of the letters later, and in private. I didn't want Collins snitching to anyone, especially since my grandmother had other servant that would be just as easily interested as I was. And I didn't want my mother's box to be stolen.

As the car ride continued, my eyes drooped, and I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

**Hope that you all have enjoyed the story so far! Thanks for reading. **

**P.S.- Reviews equal Encouragement, and Encouragement equals MORE CHAPTERS!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Into the Looking Glass**

**Disclaimer: My story is almost in every way different than Louis Carroll's classic. If characters are copied, it is for the enjoyment of all readers. **

**Chapter Two **

"Miss! Miss!" Collin's voice called from the front seat.

"Yes?" I asked groggily. Was the trip finally over?

As if reading my mind, he said, "We have arrived."

I quickly sat up and looked out the window. As soon as I did, I gasped. We were coming up the drive of one of the largest houses that I had ever seen. It was made of stone, and fashioned in the usual style: square. The house had nearly a hundred windows, I was sure of it. But one of the things that struck me most about my grandmother's home was the woods surrounding it. The forest had come out of nowhere, and I was sure I hadn't seen it on the way in.

Squinting, I could now see a little congregation of people standing by the front entrance. When I asked Collin who they were, he told me that they were the house staff, waiting to welcome me.

"What about my grandmother?" I asked, not seeing anyone without a footman's or maid's suit.

"She'll be inside, waiting. Of course, you won't see her until dinner, after you're all settled. She decided to have a welcoming party on your behalf, Miss, and you should be quite excited," Collin was smiling widely, as though the party was really for him. He was probably just glad to get an evening off. Then again, he probably had every evening off, since it was likely that my grandmother didn't go anywhere.

When we had finally pulled up the long driveway, several of the servants rushed to retrieve the luggage from the trunk. As I opened the door and hopped out, I could feel their hurried stares.

But is was understandable. I had curly auburn hair that hung to my waist, and I wore it down. My dark jeans were torn at the knees, and hung well over my sneakers. I wore a dark blue t-shirt with black stars on it, which matched my nails and the bracelets on my wrists. The only thing that I wasn't wearing, however, was makeup. My mom had once told me how beautiful I looked without makeup. She told me never to wear it unless I had to. I honored her request, especially since it was one of the last that she made.

I sighed, watching the servants carry my suitcases in. Collin called out to me from the front door. I quickly grabbed my gray backpack from the inside of the car, along with my mother's trunk. I ran up the steps, and nearly bumped into a servant on my way in. Collin smiled and motioned for me to follow him.

As we walked, I noticed how much more alive the inside of the house looked. Paintings and statues lined the walls, and rich carpets covered the hardwood floor. It was like walking through the set of an eighteenth century movie.

"How old is this house?" I asked Collin, who was quite a ways ahead of me.

"Well over two-hundred," he called back, finally stopping at a pair of double doors.

"This is it, Miss," he said, smiling. "Your dress is inside, and your clothes will be unpacked later, during the party. Oh- and I'll come for you at seven." And with that he left, heading down the hall and through yet another door.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, and then blinked. The room had a huge window, with a view straight at the grounds. The natural light in the room would be perfect for painting and sketching.

When I finally tore my eyes away from the window, I began to admire the rest of the room. A large four-poster bed sat off to one side, with a wardrobe next to it. Paintings of rural scenes decorated the room, and behind those the walls were covered with blue striped wallpaper. All of the furniture was simple yet elegant, and painted white with dainty flowers carved along the sides.

I walked over to the wardrobe, running my fingers along its smooth surface. Opening it, I saw that there were several sets of clothes inside. But not the kind of clothes that I usually wore. All I saw were sundresses and skirts made of big flower prints. Pretty clothes, but the rebel in me spoke out against them. And then I saw the dress at the back of the wardrobe.

I carefully placed the dress on my bed, the fluid fabric nearly slipping through my fingers. I was a jade green color, with silk folds that swathed around the waist to form a v-neck. Turning it over, I examined the buttons at the back. They were all in a neat row, round, and covered in the same silk as the dress. As I examined the beautiful material, I wondered how old this dress really was, and how I would look in it. I glanced at the clock. I had one hour to shower, do my hair, and get into the dress. At precisely that moment, I heard a knock on the door.

"Miss, I've come to arrange you hair," I heard someone say.

"And Miss, I've come to help with the dress!" another voice exclaimed.

I sighed. "Come in."

Two maids bustled in to meet me, smiling widely.

"We're so happy that you have arrived!" one squeaked brightly.

"Yes, it's been years since we've had a visitor!"

"And you'll be here forever!" I really wished that they wouldn't remind me.

"Uh, can we get started?" I asked, smiling slightly.

An hour later, I was following Collin down the long hall, struggling to catch my breath. The maids insisted that I wore a corset, grandma's orders. What was this, the eighteenth century? I had a few choice words for my dear old grandma, if I lived through this stupid party.

"Hey, Collin, wait up, I'm dying here," I said, stopping. Turning, he took my arm and placed it around his.

"Here," he said. I thanked him and we continued to walk down the hall. "You look lovely," he commented. I didn't really have a grandpa, but if I did, it would be Collin.

Finally, we came to a set of double doors.

"And this, is where I leave you," Collin said, and he thrust open the doors.

My stomach clenched, and I was blinded by the light cast from a bright chandelier. When I finally focused, I saw a sea of people waiting below me. And there, standing in front of them all, was the most magnificently dressed woman I had ever seen. She gave me a warm and encouraging smile, then beckoned for me to come to her.

As I walked down the stairs she stood there, in her black velvet dress and neat white curls. It was as if I was looking at a reflection of myself, though years older.

"Camilla," she said. Her voice was just as warm as her embrace. "It has been a long time." I looked into her blue eyes, deeper and more knowing than my emerald ones. And in that moment, my whole perspective on the situation changed. I was going to be fine. She was just a lonely old lady that had welcomed me into her home. The least I could be was grateful.

"Well," she said, smiling, "It's time we start introducing you to society."

The evening went well, and after making polite acquaintances with everyone, we sat down to a pleasant dinner, and I tried to remember the few etiquette lessons that I had experienced in the past. My grandmother met my eyes a few times, and I sensed that she was just as eager to talk to me as I was to her.

About halfway through dinner she stood up, and the table fell silent.

"As you all know, my granddaughter, Camilla, has suffered a great loss. But I am more than happy to have her here." She paused to smile at me, joining the sympathetic looks of everyone else. "And so, I decided to have this dinner as a celebration of her arrival. Thank you all for coming, and thank you, Camilla, for having the courage to come and be a part of the society that will be one of the most defining parts of your life." Everyone raised their glasses, and murmured words of support and comfort. I had never been so afraid and excited in my life.

Dinner lasted only a short time longer, and I joined my grandmother at the door to bid our guests farewell. After when the final couple had left, she invited my into the drawing room just down the hall.

I sat on a soft leather chair while my grandmother settled herself elegantly on a flowered sofa.

"Camilla, I have been expecting you for quite some time," she said, her voice still holding its gentle tone. "But I confess that I was a bit nervous at your coming. In one of your mother's various letters to me, she had mentioned that you were sixteen. I had no idea what to do with myself when I heard how grown up you were." I couldn't help feeling lucky and content at this new arrangement. Here I had a grandmother that was clearly excited at my being here, and who had the most beautiful house that I had ever seen.

"Well," she said, rising. "It's clear that you are tired, as am I. We have a lot to do tomorrow, so it's off to bed."

As we turned opposite ways down the hall, I paused. "Grandmother?" I said, looking back at her.

"Yes?"

"Thanks for letting me stay."

"You're most welcome."

**Thanks for reading! Please review! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Into the Looking Glass**

**Side note: Mrs. Liddell is Camilla's grandmother's maiden name. Oh, and Camilla is eighteen, and has graduated, contrary to what chapter two says. I didn't want high school to complicate things.**

**Chapter Three**

The morning after the party, I awoke late. It took me a moment to realize where I was. It was still hard to think of this place as home.

A set of clothes was laid out carefully on the desk. I wondered whether or not I was supposed to wear the dainty sundress and light wool shrug. I didn't exactly want to, but if they were something my grandmother expected me to put on, then I would definitely reconsider.

After fixing my hair in a loose ponytail and brushing my teeth, I went in to put on the dress. I decided that I liked the color, faded baby blue with small, dark blue flowers. The brown shrug looked itchy, but it was really soft and cool. It had short sleeves and a large button in the front. I tripped over the brown flats that had been left on the floor. Apparently those were to be worn also. I looked back at the desk, checking to see if there was anything else I was supposed to wear. I hoped not, since I looked like someone straight out of _Charming British Debutants_ anyway.

I spotted a note, and picked it up, quickly scanning through the neat script.

Camilla-

I had some guests arrive later last night, and they will be joining us for brunch. Please wear the sundress I had laid out for you, and be ready by ten-thirty. Oh- and there will be a few nice boys there, perhaps you'd be interested.

Gran

I sighed. Gran _was_ trying to make a debutante out of me. I had wanted to do some sketching today, and maybe explore a bit. Oh well. I looked at the clock on my nightstand. The large black numbers read 10:27. Oh no.

I grabbed my gray bookbag off the hook on the wall and rushed out the door as quickly as I could. I ran down the hall, trying to remember where the front door was. As I rounded a corner, I smacked into something very large and very solid. I felt strong fingers grip my arms and steady me. I looked up, dazed, into the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen. They looked oddly familiar.

"Hey- watch where you're- oh," said a voice that was just familiar as the eyes.

"Sorry," I said.

"Well, you should be," he said, taking a step backwards. I studied his face. It was angry and annoyed. But he was handsome, with slightly angular features and a cynical brow. He looked like a classical statue. Hmm. Where was I supposed to be again?

"Shoot," I muttered. "Uh- you wouldn't happen to know where the front door is?" I asked, ignoring his charms.

"You were going the wrong way." He nodded his head in a different direction.

"Oh," I said, following him. We arrived at the front entrance a few minutes later, and Collin was there waiting for us. Along with a very impatient-looking Gran.

"I was lost," I explained.

"Indeed," she said. "Well, let's be off then, shall we?"

"Uh- huh," I said thickly. I felt like some naughty kid that had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Blue eyes next to me snickered.

"William!" Gran exclaimed, "You should have been here earlier as well." His laughter ceased.

"Sorry Mrs. Liddell," he said. He offered his arm to me as Gran took Collin's. What a fake. We headed for a black town car. I got in after Will, though not very gracefully. Will sat directly across from me. This was going to be a long ride.

My first impression of Will, (other than when I met him last night at the party, I now remembered), was that he was an arrogant, rich, playboy. As he sat there talking to Gran about his various accomplishments in school, (Oxford this fall), music, (he was a pianist), and business,(he was getting a record deal with a major recording company in London) my dislike of him grew. In this world of high-class people, he was a movie star. He was one those infuriatingly good-looking people who gets everything they want served to them on a silver platter. I hated it.

Finally, after twenty minutes of Will-talk, he finally asked about me. I think it was more out of mere politeness than interest. I was simply the odd stranger that he smacked into.

"Where are you from?" he asked, his tone lazy and bored.

"All over America, mostly. Up until the past year and a half, my mom and I moved constantly," I answered.

"Why is that?"

"She never liked to stay in the same place for very long. I guess she just wanted to see if there was anything better." He looked at me then, and there was something very unreadable in his face.

"Any hobbies?" he asked eventually.

"Art, mostly. I paint." My answers were short, to the point. I didn't like talking about me, or talking to someone I knew very well wasn't interested.

"Oh," he said, looking out the window. It was silent the rest of the way there, except when Gran tried to start a few conversations. When there was no responses longer than a syllable given, she gave up and took out a newspaper.

The house where brunch was to be served was large and yellow. It stood out beautifully against the green of the summertime trees. Collin drove us straight to the front door, where a woman in a pretty green dress and large sunhat was waiting. She smiled at us as we got out of the car. I carried my gray bag with me.

"Camilla," Gran said, taking my hand, "You remember Mrs. Lucy Welsh, one of my oldest and dearest friends, don't you?"

"Yes," I said. Mrs. Welsh had followed us around all evening, complimenting everyone and demonstrating her well-bred manners. "Thanks for inviting me."

She nodded and went to greet Will. Then we all headed inside and went through the house to the back. I admired the splendor and classic beauty of the house. It reflected the kind manners of Mrs. Welsh, simple and elegant.

When we reached the gardens at the rear of the house, I spotted a table laid out with dainty plates, glasses and silverware. I felt as though I'd stepped into a movie, full of stylishly dressed people at a cheery get-together. There was also the unsettling feeling that I was being casually stared at.

Gran went off with Mrs. Welsh to visit with a group of ladies in large hats sitting in a circle of metal lawn chairs. Will went off and joined a group that looked about my age and consisted of several pretty girls. Surprising.

Since I didn't want to mingle with the social life, I walked off in the direction of the gardens. I decided to get a few sketches in, so I chose a path that looked somewhat secluded so I wouldn't be interrupted.

Trees lined the path, along with ferns and several flowers. I felt like I should be skipping, or at least carrying a basket of goodies. I smiled to myself, and continued walking.

I thought about this totally surreal world that I had, by some miracle, been thrown into. I had always wished I led a life like this, like a rich and popular person. But then my mom's voice would pop into my head. "That's where I began, Camilla, and I don't regret ending here."

The words had, until now, struck me as odd and confusing. What did she mean? But now, being here, I realized that she was sick of the parties and dinners and fancy brunches.

"Camilla!!" I heard my name called through the trees. I realized it was probably time for brunch. I turned back along the path and met up with a very disgruntled Will. I smiled slightly. I guess the rich boy wasn't pleased that his flirting was interrupted.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, taking my elbow and leading me quickly down the path. One of his steps was equal to two of mine, and I struggled to keep up.

"Here, obviously," I retorted, pulling my arm away. He stopped, but I continued walking.

"Wait," he said, running up to stand in front of me. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you."

I rolled my eyes. Rich boy was still trying to make himself look good and noble by apologizing. "It's fine," I said stiffly, and walked around him. I could hear the faint voices of the party, and quickly figured that the party had grown in my absence. I also heard the crunch of Will's shoes on the gravel behind me.

When we arrived back, I realized just how much the party had grown. Several older men in slacks joined the ladies who my grandmother had been visiting with, and several boys had joined the group of girls Will was talking with earlier. There was also a young couple holding hands and talking off by themselves. Almost everyone looked over at Will and I as we emerged from the path. I suddenly realized just how close to me he really was. I also noticed a particularly beautiful girl eyeing me as though she wanted to claw my eyes out.

"Take my arm," Will said softly. I numbly obeyed, and put on my biggest grin. I decided to just smile and pretend like nothing happened. He led me over to a nearby fountain, and soon everyone drifted back into easy conversation.

"That was awkward," I said, still holding Will's arm. He was wearing tan pants and a deep blue sweater. Ugh. We matched.

"Well, get used to it. Show up with someone new and they all look at you like you've grow three heads," he said, looking deeply into the fountain.

"You sound bitter. And what do you mean "someone new"? They don't think I'm your someone new, do they?" I asked, cocking my head towards him.

"Well," he hesitated. I was afraid of what he was going to say next.

"Well?"  
"I kind of already told Jacqui that we're sort of together," he said, smiling guiltily.

"What?" I exclaimed, a little too loudly. I wrenched my arm away and turned on him. "I don't even know you, and you're going around telling all of these people, who I also don't know, that we're a couple? Oh, this is just fabulous."

"I'm sorry, okay? She had me in a corner, and the only way I could think of to ward her off was by telling her that I'm already with someone." He took my hand, after looking sideways. I looked in the same direction, and saw the dark haired girl staring.

"And you had to tell her it was me," I said, looking back at him.

"Well, she had enough sense to ask," he said, his eyes searching mine. "I'm sorry."

I sighed. I didn't like giving into the rich boy. "Let's just get back." I led him towards the table, where everyone was sitting down. We were still holding hands, and I was probably squeezing his a little too tight, since I was so nervous, confused, and angry that I wasn't sure how I was going to get through the meal.

"You sit here," he said, and let go of my hand. He went around to the other side of the table, across from me. My hand felt strangely empty without his. I swallowed and tried to school my thoughts in another direction.

Throughout the meal, Will looked my direction and smiled several times, as if we were sharing words of a secret conversation. His smiles always left me dazed and unsatisfied. This was so unreal.

Finally all the awkwardness of the meal was over, and it was time to go home. I dreaded it, because Gran was staying to go shopping in town with Mrs. Walsh and her husband, who I hadn't met because he was working. Will and I would be riding home together. I disliked the thought.

**Thanks for reading! Sorry this chapter took so long, I've been doing ALOT of revising lately, so I hope it meets your approval! Please review!**


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